D. Randall “Randy” Blythe and Corey Taylor

Harvard Book Store welcomes frontman of the heavy metal band Lamb of God D. RANDALL BLYTHE and lead singer of Slipknot COREY TAYLOR for a signing of their books Dark Days: A Memoir and You're Making Me Hate You: A Cantankerous Look at the Common Misconception That Humans Have Any Common Sense Left.

Please note: This is a book signing only. See the event's signing guidelines below.

On Dark Days: A Memoir:

On June 27, 2012, the long-running, hard-touring, and world-renowned metal band Lamb of God landed in Prague for their first concert there in two years. Vocalist D. Randall "Randy" Blythe was looking forward to a few hours off—a rare break from the touring grind—in which to explore the elegant, old city. However, a surreal scenario worthy of Kafka began to play out at the airport as Blythe was detained, arrested for manslaughter, and taken to Pankrác Prison—a notorious 123-year-old institution where the Nazis' torture units had set up camp during the German occupation of then-Czechoslovakia, and where today hundreds of prisoners are housed, awaiting trial and serving sentences in claustrophobic, sweltering, nightmare-inducing conditions.

Two years prior, a 19-year-old fan died of injuries suffered at a Lamb of God show in Prague, allegedly after being pushed off stage by Blythe, who had no vivid recollection of the incident. Stage-crashing and -diving being not uncommon occurrences, as any veteran of hard rock, metal, and punk shows knows, the concert that could have left him imprisoned for years was but a vague blur in Blythe's memory, just one of the hundreds of shows his band had performed over their decades-long career.

At the time of his arrest Blythe had been sober for nearly two years, having finally gained the upper hand over the alcoholism that nearly killed him. But here he faced a new kind of challenge: jailed in a foreign land and facing a prison sentence of up to ten years. Worst of all, a young man was dead, and Blythe was devastated for him and his family, even as the reality of his own situation began to close in behind Pankrác Prison's glowering walls of crumbling concrete and razor wire.

What transpired during Blythe's incarceration, trial, and eventual acquittal is a rock 'n' roll road story unlike any other, one that runs the gamut from tragedy to despair to hope and finally to redemption. While never losing sight of the sad gravity of his situation, Blythe relates the tale of his ordeal with one eye fixed firmly on the absurd (and at times bizarrely hilarious) circumstances he encountered along the way. Blythe is a natural storyteller and his voice drips with cutting humor, endearing empathy, and soulful insight. Much more than a tour diary or a prison memoir, Dark Days is D. Randall Blythe's own story about what went down—before, during, and after—told only as he can.

On You're Making Me Hate You: A Cantankerous Look at the Common Misconception That Humans Have Any Common Sense Left:

Corey Taylor has had it. Had it with the vagaries of human behavior and life in this postmodern digital blanked-out waiting room that passes for a world. Reality TV, awful music, terrible drivers, megamalls, airports, family reunions, bad fashion choices, other people's monstrous children, and badly-behaved "adult" human beings are warping life in the twenty-first century into an often-unbearable endurance test of one's patience, fortitude, and faith. You're Making Me Hate You is a blisteringly funny diatribe that skewers the worst aspects of human behavior with a knowing eye for every excruciating detail, told in the vivid way that only Corey Taylor can.

Like his previous bestselling forays, You're Making Me Hate You is an unflinching glimpse into the mind of Corey Taylor, who spares no one from his seething gaze. Make no mistake: this is not the Corey Taylor you run into at meet-and-greets or in line at the coffee shop. This is not the kind and cuddly guy who kisses babies and takes pictures with your mom while leaving a voicemail for that distant cousin in college. This is not the loveable scamp who can poke just as much fun at himself as he does at the various rubes around him, though to be fair he does save one chapter for a brutal and lacerating self-analysis. This is Corey Motherfucking Taylor. This is the Great Big Mouth. This is that bastard you wonder about when you listen to Slipknot and Stone Sour.

Funny, profane, blasphemous, and above all right on target, You're Making Me Hate You is pure Corey Taylor unleashed, exposing the underbelly of human depravity in all its ragged glory.